Hecrad's voice hardens.
"If they truly defeated a marshal-led force," he says, "then Bakwell cannot afford half-measures."
He taps the map once.
"Prepare for the worst."
Kevom answers immediately. "Yes, my lord."
"Activate every defensive array," Hecrad orders. "Not just the outer walls. The inner districts as well."
The mage steps forward. "My lord, that will drain—"
"I know exactly what it will drain," Hecrad says, cutting him off. "Mana reserves, treasury funds, political goodwill."
He looks at the man coolly. "Spend them."
The mage bows deeply. "At once."
Hecrad turns to Kevom again. "Recall all patrols. Double the knight rotations. Wake the veteran reserves."
Kevom's jaw tightens, excitement and tension mixing. "Understood."
"Open the armories," Hecrad continues. "Distribute the artifacts. Even the ones my father forbade from leaving storage."
A murmur ripples through the room.
One knight hesitates. "My lord… those are—"
